


Mutant Academy WIP

by J_Wolfe



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Multi, Mutants, Superpowers, WIP, X-men - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1871481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Wolfe/pseuds/J_Wolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All of the Teen Wolf characters are mutants at Dr. Deaton's Academy. It's a different kind of high school with about the same kind of drama.</p><p>Also, I'm determining pairings as I go so nothing is concrete. After the 1st chapter, though, it's looking Sterek-y.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I know, I know. It's like the x-men comics have come to life. But, hey: they had some pretty good ideas in that comic.

First of all, there's the academy, where young mutants like myself are taught to control our emerging abilities and kept safe from a large chunk of the population that wants us dead.

The academy is run by Dr. Deaton. I know what you're thinking: you bet he's psychic, right? Well, interestingly enough, he doesn't have any powers. Even though both of his parents did. For a while, he thought I might turn out the same way, but then I got a lame sauce version of my dad's ability.

I guess that brings us to me. The name's Stiles. My friends, nope, actually it's just friend, calls me Stiles. Everybody else calls me Captain Lame-O. I know: original. But, what're you gonna do? Their just a bunch of super-idiots.

My dad, the Sheriff, is on the team - which they actually named the X-Men. Can you believe that? They have no class. Anyway, he and I share this thing where we can understand stuff faster than normal people. He uses his to cripple bad guys and throw them in super lock up. I use mine to pass grad level math classes. Because, you know, math is such an amazing weapon.

My best (and really, only) friend, Scott McCall is about the same age as me. We only have two classes together, Advanced Biochem and Philosophy, both of which he struggles through. I love the guy, but he just cannot figure out how to take tests. I'm sure you're wondering (because everyone always does: it's like a zodiac sign or something) what his ability is. It's actually super cool. He can -

Oh, wait. Mr. Harris is talking. I should probably pay attention. "Why do I even bother. If any of you had learned anything, you would know that mixing potassium iodide and hydrogen peroxide will result in-"

"An explosion," I blurt. I really have got to duct tape my trap shut. Harris is glaring at me, so I slump down in my chair.

"Not quite Mr. Stilinski, but good guess." He has a smug grin as he picks up the beakers at the demo table in front of the class.

Well that's just rude. "I mean, I could've said that it's a rapidly catalyzed decomposition resulting in explosive expansion, but that would just be showing off." A few of the other kids smirk at my back talk, but the general consensus of my peers is that I'm lame, so there's minimal approval. Scott gives me a 'dude, what are you thinking?' glance and I turn my head back to Harris.

"You're right. That is showing off. And disrupting class. I'll see you in detention." This literally happens everyday. I've blocked out my schedule after school to include detention with Harris.

\-----

 

After Biochem, I head to Advanced Tech with Ms. Graeme. She's the best. She never really fit in to normal society because she has a physical mutation. Reptilian scales cover most of her body, and spiky barbs make an almost mohawk pattern on top of her head. She's a super genius. Kind of like me.

There's another kid in the class who's my second best friend. Scott really is my only friend, but Danny's the only other person here who's actually nice to me. Well, besides the adults. Most of them love me. It's pretty sad, but çest la vie.

"Hey, Danny," I greet as I walk through the door. He peels his eyes away from the tech gauntlet on his arm for a second to smile in response. He's a technopath with some electromagnetic manipulation abilities. He's perpetually doing something: mixing music with his wireless headset, mapping algorithms for new codes, designing tech for the Alpha team.

Oh, now's probably a good time to mention the team situation. So, before you can be on the actual "superhero" team, you have to be on a student team and train to use your abilities in the field. The teams are labelled in order of the Greek alphabet and contain junior and senior students of varying ability who want to join the X-Men ranks one day. There's the Alpha squad: Danny (who goes by Techno), Jackson (who goes by Magnus, which is clearly Latin for Assface), Lydia (Beauty, which is definitely true), and Scott (who still just goes by Scott, even though he's supposed to pick a name by next week). Then there's the Betas: Boyd (Gentle Giant, but we call him G2), Erica (the ferocious feline Felicity), Derek (Sirius, and also serious), and Derek's little sister Cora (la Loba). Gamma squad is: Kevin (Gills), David (Armor), Ellen (Link), and Lily (Cannon). I'm on Delta with Isaac (Shadow), Paige (Screech), and Gary (Eternity).

My team's pretty chill. Isaac is pretty emo and depressing to be around, but never really causes any drama and has the coolest power on D-Squad. Paige is cool, but she's dating Derek Hale so she's too popular to actually be nice to me. And Gary isn't really into the whole team thing. He's just blue and immune to everything so he doesn't really know what else to do with his life. I don't really see any of them outside of practice and sparring very much.

Oh, class is over. I did not pay attention. I'll just read over the lecture slides later.

\-----

Dr. Deaton, who we affectionately call Doc, gave a lecture on personal understanding and growth today in philosophy. Something about having to "know who we are before we can unlock our full potential." I don't know. I wouldn't even take philosophy if it wasn't required. But Scott likes it. He especially liked it when they introduced the new girl. Her name's Allison Argent. She's got these crazy violet eyes that seem to have crosshairs in them. She didn't say what her ability was, but I'm sure we'll find out in practice tomorrow morning. She sat in front of Scott and I could actually see his muscles grow before he tapped her on the shoulder and handed her a pen.

But now, it's one of my favorite parts of the day. After training for two years on my own time and doing some excruciating cardio routines every single weekday morning, I finally got Doc and my dad to let me take the Advanced Parkour course in the Danger Room. The layouts are constantly changing and the only objective is to keep the drones from spotting you. I hold the third place record for time unseen, which is pretty good for someone without a mobility power.

I finish stretching and the alarm sounds to start the course. My five classmates and I take off toward the vaguely building shaped constructs and hurdle around and through openings. Derek, Cora, and Erica excel in this class, and I don't really have a chance at keeping up with them. I usually stay pretty close to Danny, although he tends to accidentally get himself caught. I hadn't realized until now that the new girl, Allison, was on the course. I gave her a questioning look as she ran head on towards a wall, but she just gave a smirk and a wink and disappeared. So, she's intangible. That's a pretty sick power. A glint of light on a wall up ahead signals that there's a drone around the corner, so I kick off the walls onto a rooftop, inadvertently slamming right into Derek Hale's rock hard body.

I flail back and almost fall off the structure, but he grabs me by the shirt and actually growls as he looks at me like I'm a child, which I guess is apropos since he's one of the super seniors in their 20s. "Sor-ry," I spout, perhaps a bit too sarcastic as he lets go of my shirt and I proceed to brush my shoulders off. He sneers again, but sniffs the air and dives off the structure. I take the hint and follow, perhaps a bit less gracefully. I've never really interacted with him before. I don't think I want to do it again.

\-----

"Hey!" Scott calls as I enter our shared dorm room. "How was parkour?"

"It was... fine," Scott usually doesn't ask about my other classes until dinner (because video games and things). "Actually, I accidentally bumped into Der-"

"That's great! I heard the new girl, Allison, is in your class?" Ah, I see where we're going with this now.

"Uh huh. She is." Scott gives me an urging head shake. "All I found out is that she can go intangible. Oh, and she beat me at avoiding the drones."

"Badass," he smiles and then pats the space on the bed next to him and hands me a controller. I kick his ass at CoD.

\-----

"So," I say around a mouthful of mashed potatoes, "have you thought about your code name yet?"

"Huh?" Scott snaps his attention back from the line where people are coming into the cafeteria for food. "Oh, yeah, some. I was thinking 'BioGuy'. Or maybe 'Darwin'? I wish I could just use 'Medic' like my mom."

I hum in consideration, but I'm broken out of it as the new girl comes up to our table. "Hi, guys," she greets, holding her tray with one hand and brushing the hair out of her eyes with the other. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Scott opens his mouth to respond, but he's a bit out of breath. I start to speak but I'm caught off by Captain Jackass. "You don't want to sit with these losers," Jackson sneers. "You'll catch something. Seriously, crooked jaw here has diseases."

"That's kinda rude, don't you think," the new girl, who I'm really starting to like, shoots back. Scott's paralyzed by everything going on still.

Lydia comes up behind her boyfriend. "Excuse Jackson's manners. He can be kind of cold hearted sometimes. But you should definitely come sit with us. You seem awesome," she smiles her brilliant smile and flips her hair slightly. I know she's using her charisma, which is aggravating, but I still like her for something underneath I've never quite been able to peg.

"Um, sure, I guess," the new girl says as she walks away with them without looking back.

Scott stares after them so pitifully I can feel the heartbreak rolling off of him in waves. "Hey buddy," I say, reaching a hand across the table to pat his arm. "It's fine. She only went because of Lydia." I spare a glance at the quote unquote popular table and Lydia sends mea devilish smirk, hiding the slightest glimmer of guilt in her eyes. "Keep telling me about your code name ideas."

He shakes it off a bit and returns to his diatribe. "What about... 'Speci-man'?" I make a twisted face. "Yeah. No good. 'Changeling'?"

I nod in approval. "Changeling is good. Biological manipulation, change. I'm not sure it gives a sense of what you can really do though."

"Yeah," he laments. "I'll keep thinking. What about you? You're on the same deadline as me."

"Right," I sigh. I totally forgot about my own code name situation. "I'm favoring 'Deputy', but my dad says I should make my own name. 'Brainiac' seems a bit pretentious. Plus, it's not like my power's that great. I just process information really fast. I don't even have a physical mutation." Scott hums in sympathy to my self-naming plight.

After a few minutes of eating in relegated silence, I notice Derek coming into the cafeteria. "Hey, I didn't get to tell you earlier." Scott looks up from the probably-not-real-meat spaghetti. "I bumped - literally - into Derek Hale today in parkour. I was more than a little afraid for my life."

Scott laughs softly, looking over at the line. He turns quickly back toward me, whispering, "I think he heard us."

My eyes widen as I look at the line, immediately regretting the movement as Derek Hale's piercing eyes and blank-but-somehow-still-angry-and-threatening expression stare right back at me. "Shit," I breath as I snap my head back so quickly I think I got whiplash. "Is he still glaring?"

"I'm not gonna look!" Scott whispers incredulously.

And he didn't have to. "Stilinski," a gruff voice growls from behind me.

I turn slowly, my mind already determining the fastest escape. Unfortunately, I know I'm not fast enough regardless. At least Scott can probably heal most of the damage. "Uh... Hi," I manage to spit out.

"You dropped this when you ran into me earlier," he said, a vague sense of aggression in his voice. He dropped the pen on the table.

"Um... Thank you?" I said as he turned away.

"Whatever," he dismissed as he went to join his sister across the room. She smiled toward us, which made me uncomfortable, like she was looking at me like I was prey. Paige was at their table, too, but she was just checking her makeup in her compact. This place is so high school sometimes. And she's 20, not even the right age for it. 

Scott and I met eyes with equally confused expressions. "What... the hell... just happened?" he drew out to exaggerate.

"I have no clue. I didn't even realize I had a pen with me when I bumped into him." Today has been so weird. And it's only Monday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, that's chapter one. My plot is a bit random at the moment.
> 
> Please comment anything as long as you're not a jerk (criticisms are great as long as they're constructive and not focused on spelling/grammar mistakes).
> 
> Thanks! :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Currently un-beta'd: will update after beta'd by the lovely Saeeda (summerdaydreaming)

The alarm beeps obnoxiously on the nightstand. Scott does his standard it's-four-thirty-in-the-morning-make-it-stop grunt and covers his head with a pillow. I hop out of bed and throw on a pair of basketball shorts and a light t-shirt. I've got a schedule to keep if I want to stay in the running for the X-Men.

By 5 I've started running laps across campus on the track. No one else is ever up this early. At least, not outside. It's nice since being alone is usually less stressful for me. I've got my headphones in, so I might not have noticed if not for my power.

A shadow flickered across the ground in front of me and I turned on my heals, ripping out the earbuds. Scanning the space behind me, I see two humanoid shapes disappear into the forest at the edge of the field. I probably should just go back to my cardio, but I feel like a good X-Man would investigate.

I set off towards the edge of the woods slowly, taking stock of my resources in a worst case scenario. I've got my clothes, my iPod, and the pen from last night in my pocket. The forest is a resource too, but I'm severely lacking in usable items if this goes south. Psyching myself up, I jump the logs at the field's perimeter and follow the trail of snapped branches and trodden down grass clumps as quickly as I can while staying stealthy.

I hear a branch snap behind me and I whip out the pen from my pocket. "Woah, dude," Scott defuses with his hands up. "Put down the weapon. I'm unarmed," he chuckles out the last part.

I sigh in relief. "Why are you out here?" Scott doesn't have the right body shape to be one of the people I'm following. Plus, he never gets up before 7.

"I, uh..." he trails off, scratching the back of his head in confusion. "I don't really know. I just kind of felt stressed and like I needed to come come find you." A ponderous silence ensues before he speaks up again. "Wait, why are you out here?"

"Oh," I breath. "Well, I saw these two people running into the woods and it sort if looked like one was being chased. So, you know: I pursued them to investigate." I bite my lip in a bit of what must be embarrassment. "I guess we should probably head ba-"

I'm cut off by a howling scream from deeper in the woods. With wide eyes, we lock eyes for a moment and I immediately take off running towards the sound, Scott reluctantly in tow. I grip the pen tight in anticipation, kicking off a tree to cross a creek. I make a quick glance toward Scott, but I see a small glint off of a piece of metal as I turn my head, so I dove into a ditch for cover.

"Scott!" a familiar voice shout/whispers through the trees.

I hear the forest detritus crumple as Scott skids to a stop, clearly not having seen me take cover. "Oh, uh..." he fumbles out. "Sheriff. What are you doing out here?"

"Funny," my dad deadpans. "That's what I was going to ask you." I can feel Scott's anxiety from where I'm situated underneath some brush. "Where's Stiles?" he asks.

Scott doesn't say anything at first, but I assume my dad gives one of his famous Shriff glares, so he's got to spit something out. "He's not here. I came out by myself to think about a code name. You know they're due at the end of the week."

It's not the best lie, but my dad'll know he's not getting Scott to spill the beans. "Come on, I'll take you back to campus," I vaguely hear the footsteps as my dad take Scott quickly back out of the woods. If my dad's out here, this must be serious though. I should probably turn around and head back.

I go to stand, but a deer jumps overhead and I stumble back onto the ground. In a rush, a large black beast leaps and bites across my left shoulder. In a reflex reaction, I bring the pen up to where it's jugular should be and stab with all the force I can manage. The thing on me whimpers and runs off.

The wound isn't fatal, but I'd like to get back to the school as fast as possible. It's kind of hard to run while applying pressure to almost an eighth of your torso, though. I trip over a stump probably five yards from the edge of the woods and accidentally catch a handful of brambly weeds when I land. "Ow! God damn it!"

"Stiles!" it's my dad. "Stiles, where are you?"

"I'm right here, dad," I call. He's such a worry wart. But, of course, "There's something big - and mean - out in the woods!"

The Sheriff and Scott rush over to where I'm getting up from the briar patch. "You're hurt," Scott says, reaching out a hand.

I gladly take it with a hand marred in the fall. "Thanks," I say, relaxing a bit while my dad scans the woods behind us.

"Come on," the Sheriff commands, ushering us back to the track. "It's too dark for us to be out in these woods."

As we exit the treeline, my dad gets his serious face on. "What were you two doing out there?" he questions.

"Nothing," I spurt, which hasn't been a good enough answer since I was three. "I just thought I'd take a more scenic run today. I don't know what Scott was doing." I have to admit, one great thing about my megamind is my innate ability to fabricate elaborate lies and stick to them.

The Sheriff forgoes trying to crack me and turns his hard glare on Scott. Who, of course, breaks almost immediately. "Stiles was following two shady figures that ran into the trees while he was jogging and then I felt like I needed to find him so I came out here too." The words come out of his mouth so fast I swear my dad has some sort of truth telling ray he's not telling me about.

"Thanks a lot, Scott!" I lament, flipping an imaginary table - which I immediately regret as pain shoots up my spine from my shoulder. "Ow! What the fuck?!" I pull my shirt down to reveal the mostly unhealed bite mark.

"That's weird," Scott intones as he moves to touch the mark. "It should've healed. Let me try again." Scott's hand glows gold as he pushes his ability out to heal me. But nothing happens. He focuses harder and the skin around the bite only vaguely pulls back together. He lets out the breath he'd been holding, and sounding winded despite the relative failure, apologizes, "I don't think I can heal it. It's like your body is rejecting the healing process despite my ability."

The anxious anticipation from the Sheriff is palpable, so I turn to see him bouncing slightly and scanning the area. "We should get to the main buildings," he says. "You can live with an injury for the walk back. It must've clotted up by now."

"Fine," I sigh. "But if I get rabies it's on your conscience."

\-----

I have to skip my morning weight training and swimming to go see Mama McCall in the infirmary. She can't heal the bite much either, giving the same excuse as Scott, my body rejecting the healing despite mutant abilities.

I told her it was fine, but it's still kind of bugging me as I walk into breakfast half an hour late. I grab a banana and a bowl of cereal before heading over to where Scott's sitting with the pretty new girl. Allison, I think?

"Hey, guys," I smile weakly as I plop down in one of the open seats. Allison beams politely back at me.

"Did my mom have any more luck?" Scott asks sincerely. I just pull down my shirt to answer. "Sorry, man." I shrug it off.

"What happened?" Allison inquires.

"A wolf bit me out in the woods," I respond lethargically.

"Oh, that's weird," she notes. "There aren't supposed to be any wolves in Northern California." I give her a quick cursory look before I hear something.

"I can't find my pen. Cora, lend me one."

"I don't have an extra. Ask somebody else. You're not the Alpha, Laura is."

I swivel in my seat to see Derek and his sister way across the cafeteria. I'm not exactly sure how I heard them from that far away, but in sure it was them. Also, I got attacked by a wolf. And there's no wolves in Northern California. But, there are Hales.

I kick my chair back and march over to where the siblings are sitting. "Hey," I spit forcefully. "Heard you needed a pen. I'm pretty sure this isn't mine, so you can have it back." I slam the blood stained writing utensil on the table and look him dead in the eyes.

Instead of responding like a normal person - I know we're in a school for mutants, but come on, we're not inhuman - he flares his nostrils and growls. "What is this?" he snarls, eyes turning electric blue.

"It's your pen. And, I'm thinking it's got one of you two's blood on it," I glare, shifting my weight to a more aggressive posture.

Derek stands slowly, cracking his neck and extending his claws and fangs. "You've got some nerve, you little punk. Cora and Paige wanted me to make more friends, and now I've got some twerp pestering me."

I'm usually not this bullheaded, but it's like anger and adrenaline are fueling me from outside myself. "You gonna do something about it?" I intimidate.

"Derek don-" Cora's cut off as Derek tackles me. But, to everyone's, including my own surprise, I roll backwards and kick him back across the cafeteria. He quickly recovers and charges me. I sidestep, and purely by instinct, run a hand up his side, leaving a trail if cuts.

Trying to process, my brain is going crazy. Based on my current understandings, I shouldn't be able to do that. I stare at my fingers just to see extended claws quite similar to the Hales' protruding from my fingertips. In my moment of confusion, before I can determine what's going on, Derek kicks me square in the cranium and I black out.

\-----

"Stiles?... Stiles?" I come to on the floor of the cafeteria with Scott's hands on the both sides of my head. "Hey, buddy. Are you okay? What the hell was that?"

"I, uh..." I'm still a tad loopy from the knock out kick. I probably had a concussion until Scott came over. "I think one of the Hales attacked me in the woods and the bite is, for lack of better terminology, turning me into a werewolf."

"What?" Scott shakes his head. "Is that even possible?"

"Maybe," Allison deadpans. We both look at her confusedly. "Well, I'm not going to tell you how I know this, but, the Hales are from a long line of mutants, and supposedly some of them have a sort of side mutation that can cause others to change from the bite of their Alpha."

"Okay, okay," I breath. "But Laura Hale is their Alpha right now and she can't do that. So... ?" Allison shrugs. And suddenly I feel fuzzy. "Finstock," I sigh.

Looking around the cafeteria is in relative disarray. We didn't fight that long, I think. "Who did this?!" Finstock yells. "Greenberg?!"

"No, Coach," Captain Deuchebag says by the door. "It was Lame-O Stilinski and the Hale guy."

"Stilinski!" Finstock calls. I raise my hand so he can see me on the floor. "Office! Now! You too Hale!" I hear the grumble from the other side of the room and Scott helps me up and I head to Deaton's.

\-----

The silence is definitely not amicable as Derek and I sit outside Deaton's office, but I do some breathing exercises to stay calm and Derek seems to calm down as well.

"Boys," Deaton greets as he opens his door. Derek growls audibly. "Well, you're still younger than me." Sometimes I think he is psychic.

We both get up and enter the office. As we sit down, I make eye contact with the Hale and immediately regret it. Derek looks ready to tend me limb from limb. I don't think Scott can fix that.

"Now, I hear you two got into a bit of a skirmish in the cafeteria." We're both silent. "What was it about?"

Derek doesn't speak, so I cautiously begin. "Well, earlier this morning I was attacked by what seemed to be a wolf, and, as you may know, there're no wolves in Northern California. So, I assumed it was a Hale, but probably not Laura," I notice a stuff shift in the air and then in Deaton's face. He regains his composure as quickly as he lost it, so I continue. "The bite won't heal, and then I come to breakfast and, somehow - I now assume lycanthropic infection - I was able to hear him say he needed a pen. Oh, sidenote, Derek threw a pen that wasn't mine at me yesterday in a weak attempt at making friends -" I hear a snarl, but I'm already talking too fast to care "- and so I go over and - oh I used the pen to stab the wolf that attacked me - and I threw the pen down accusatorily and Derek wolfed out and attacked me, perhaps for the second time today."

I hear claws ripping through leather as Derek shouts, "I didn't attack you in the woods!"

"Derek!" Deaton commands evenly. "Now, boys, don't make a habit of brawling outside of the danger room. Stiles: what's this you say about lycanthropic infection?"

"Whoever bit me made me get claws and werewolf hearing at junk. Who knows what else." Derek growls lowly again.

"Well, that's completely impossible," Derek snarls. "With Laura as the Alpha, none of us can do that."

Deaton has a momentary lapse in his controlled expressions and I have this strange sense of sadness. "I saw that," I note. Deaton raises an eyebrow. "Both times we mentioned Laura, you had a micro expression that says you're hiding something." Deaton opens his mouth, probably to stop me, but it only takes a moment for my mind to put everything together: two figures went into the forest, apparently a male chasing a female; a higher pitched wail came from deep in the woods; my dad was out there looking for someone, and it couldn't have been me; dad's on the team with Laura and the all stay in the same wing; Deaton reacts severely to Laura's mention; there's this air of sadness, though I can't quite place it. "Laura's dead. Isn't she?"

Deaton's face pinches and Derek takes a double take at me. "What?" the Hale asks frantically. "What are you talking about?"

"Stiles," Deaton commands quietly. "Out. Now." I nod and, after sparing a glance at the uncharacteristically panicky large man next to me, exit the room. About halfway down the hall, I hear bookcases crashing and glass breaking.

\-----

"Alright!" Finstock calls, blowing on his whistle. "Sparring section 1, we have a couple absent members today, so we're gonna mix it up. Starting with Alpha Squad, you'll pick sparring partners from any of the four teams. Remember, you need to challenge yourselves. I'll call you on it if you don't." He blows the whistle again and we all line up. "Magnus! Who do you pick?"

"I pick Captain Lame-O, Coach!" Jackson calls out. I should've known. I really need to pick a code name. He's got actual powers, though. Coach'll never let this slide.

"Sounds good! Next!" Finstock hollers.

I move forward questioningly. "Hold up. You're not actually gonna allow this are you? I'm in Delta! He's gonna kick my ass!"

Finstock shrugs. "You seemed to get a few hits in on Hale this morning. You'll be fine. Next!"

I walk to the farthest sparring ring, trailing Jackson. "You ready to get owned, loser," he taunts.

"Sure," I say, heading to the weapons rack on the wall. "I'm gonna use a staff to even the playing field. Cool?"

"Whatever," he dismisses, stretching at the center of the circle. If I can get an edge and not get hurt, I'm gonna take it.

I head to the designated area and wait for Coach to blow the whistle. As soon as it sounds, Jackson flicks a beam of ice my way. I circle right, but I head right into his fist. I roll out of the punch, but he's already gearing up to freeze me. I sidestep out of his path and just get clipped on the shoulder. I'm just barely making it around his attacks, so I need some sort of plan. I'm hopelessly outmatched, though. I need to do something he's not expecting that won't get me frozen solid.

"Catch!" I shout and throw the staff at him like a javelin. He freezes it about waist high and I use the block as a step up. I jump as hard as I can and flip over top of him. Before he can get his bearings, I go for a kick to the right knee and then strike at the left jugular.

Jackson crumples but there's a sudden increase in temperature and the warning scent of combustion. I handspring back as fast as possible, but he effectively fills the mat with fire. I flail as the fire licks at my palms and I fall flat on my face.

"JACKSON!" Coach shouts and the fire's already dissipated. "Control yourself so I don't have to!"

"Coach," Jackson pleads pathetically. "He hit me!" I scoff and he takes an aggressive step forward, but I know Finstock's got him on lockdown.

"Welcome to sparring, kiddo! If I was gonna let you burn the place to the ground, I'd give him a gun and you wouldn't last five seconds. Now!" he shouts, attention turning to everyone, "Everybody switch partners."

The class starts to move around some, but then the Hales walk in, and everybody's silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, chapter 2 and I actually know where the plot is basically headed! (Hooray!)
> 
> Comments are appreciated ;D
> 
> Hope you like it (and it's not too crazy)!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's not beta'd yet so there may be grammar/spelling mistakes.

Derek's jaw is locked squarely shut and Cora's clearly been crying. I can feel the boiling mixture of emotions so strongly that it's like my own sister is presumed dead.

"Alright," Coach says, which is weird because he usually yells everything. "Hales, pick your sparring partners. We're doing some inter-squad work today."

Cora picks Lydia, probably so she can get some counseling while they "fight." Lydia's a bitch most of the time, but she's always good hearted when people are legitimately down.

Derek, on the other hand, doesn't actually pick anyone verbally. He just glares at me while other kids pair off around the room, snarling when anyone goes to partner with me. After a few minutes, we're the only two left near Finstock. "Alright," Coach sighs. "Finish what you started earlier. Don't kill each other," he waves us off with his clipboard and blows his whistle loudly.

I try to concede some ground so I don't get killed, starting, "Look, Derek, I-" But he cuts me off by grabbing my shirt sleeve and pulling me over to the nearest sparring circle, where he not-so-gently throws me on the ground. "I don't know what your problem is," I blurt. But that's not true. "I mean, I sort of do know what the problem is. But it's not really a problem with me."

"Bullshit," he growls and wolfs out, leaping toward me. I roll from my position on the floor to the edge of the ring. He pursues, and I move without thinking, handspringing over his shoulders, new claws extended, and ripping up the back of his neck.

He yowls in pain and I can actually almost feel it too. "Sorry, sorry," I say, though my words are a bit mangled by my new fangs. With one hand on the back of my neck where I feel the sympathy pain, I reach out a hand to touch my opponent. His wound is almost completely stitched as he wheels around and swipes at my abdomen. I jerk back with enough speed that he only catches my shirt. "That was my favorite danger room shirt, jerk!"

He just growls back at me and I swear he's so angry and agitated that I can smell it. He keeps swiping at me, but he's erratic and unfocused. I'm feeling pretty irrationally pissed off myself, but I've got more focus than him, so he's only knicking me with his claws.

"Alright, enough!" I command, standing firmly in place. "This is not my fault and you need to Calm. Down." Derek still looks angry for a moment, but I can see him relax and then he just falls to his knees. I can feel some of the other students looking at us, but my wolfitude shrugs off of me and I take the few steps to kneel by my sparring partner. "Look, I get it. I've lost people who were important to me too. My mom died when I was little, and even though I don't remember much, I know I loved her and it makes me sad and angry and frustrated and bitter that she's gone. But none of those feelings are going to bring anyone back. So you just need to stay calm."

At some point in my diatribe, my hand ended up on Derek's shoulder. I only noticed because I could feel how slow his breathing had become. I tilted my head down to look at his face and noticed that he'd fallen asleep. "What'd ya do to him, Stilinski?!" Finstock asks as surprised as I am.

"I.. Uh.. I think I talked him into submission, Coach." I shake Derek by the shoulders a bit to wake him up.

As he's slowly coming to, Finstock chides, "I always figured that big mouth of yours was some sort of weapon. Alright, Hale, get up. Time to switch partners." Derek gets up slowly, giving me a dazed look like he doesn't know where he is.

Scott comes over to be my sparring buddy, thank god. He'll go easy on me. "What did you do to Derek?" He asks, confounded.

"I really don't know. I think I just said the right thing to make him calm down and then he passed out from having been in hypervigilant shock." Scott looks at me confused for a second, so I appease, "I read a lot of psychology journals. My mom was a therapist."

"Stilinski! McCall!" Coach shouts, blowing his whistle. "You do, actually, have to fight each other." We both roll our eyes and start "fighting," which really just consists of pretending to hit each other really hard and move around while talking.

"So," Scott says as we circle each other. "Allison's taking Eternity's spot on Delta." He smiles with meaning.

"What? How am I just hearing about this?" Scott telegraphs a punch over my left shoulder, so I dip out of the way. "Don't you think she's a little too good to be on Delta?"

"Yeah," Scott sighs. Then he shrugs, "But she's a late comer and there's no room on any better teams."

"You don't think Delta's a good team?" I joke, smirking in a dare.

"Well, I think they're getting better since Allison's there. Plus, you're like a Hale now." Now he smirks jokingly. I screw up my face in disgust. "The whole were-familial bond probably wrecks your whole fantasy of jumping Derek's bones, too."

Even though Scott's joking, I stop moving and stare across the room, where Derek's trying very hard to appear like he's not listening while evading Danny's metallic onslaught. Scott follows my line of sight and gives me a "sorry :(" look. It's incredible: his puppy dog eyes can convey emoticons.

I shrug it off and get back to our quote unquote fighting, although I'm sure I'll be paying for his words with awkward and irritated glares for days.

\-----

In Advanced Psychology today, Lydia kept staring at me like she knew something I didn't and she wasn't sure if she should tell me. I barely heard anything Ms. Morrell said about the amygdala. But, that's fine. I've already read most of the textbook and supplementary readings for that class. Really, I should be taking more classes, but my dad doesn't want my intelligence to ostracize me from the group by forgoing classmate solidarity. Little does he know simply existing ostracizes me from my classmates.

Anyway, Lydia was staring at me, so after class when I went to lunch, I put my tray down at the table where Scott was sitting and walked over to Lydia and Jackson's table. "Hey, Lydia. Danny," I greet. I nod to Jackson, tipping an invisible hat, "Lord Douchebag Supreme." Danny laughs a few breaths and Lydia puts a hand on Jackson's arm to keep him from incinerating me. I turn back to the strawberry blond psychic in the soft lavender dress. "I noticed you kept looking at me like you had something to say in psych today."

"Did I?" she asks with apparent honesty. "I must've just been staring off into space."

"No," I counter. "I know your staring off into space face, and that wasn't it." Jackson stirs.

"Alright," he spits. "Enough." He stands. Trying to assert his dominance, I think. "Back off of our table." He flicks open his palm, conjuring a threatening flame.

"Jackson," Danny reprimands, but the blond boy doesn't listen.

"You wanna go again," I ask. I don't know why this keeps happening. I'm usually so non-confrontational. But it seems like every time some angry jackass comes at me, I get just as obnoxiously aggressive and angry as them. I flick my hand out reflexively, unsheathing claws. I'm getting pretty ok at this werewolf stuff. It usually only happens around-

"We need to talk," a voice rumbles from behind me and I get pulled away by the back of my shirt, Jackson smiling in false victory as I'm dragged away.

"What the fuck, dude?" I ask as Derek comes to a stop in a quiet corner of the cafeteria. "I was gonna kick his ass." Derek levels a glare because I was clearly going to die if I straight up, no holds barred tried to brawl with Jackson in the lunchroom while I was unarmed. "Fine. What do you want?"

"What did you do to me?" Derek asks roughly.

"What do you mean? I didn't do anything to you." I'm sincerely perplexed by his accusation.

"You did something and you know it," he states calmly. "I can't wolf out and I'm too calm and you did something now fix it," he spits, but it lacks the sort of aggression that it normally would.

"I don't know. Is it a Hale thing? Can you force each other to calm down? I mean, I'm kind of like you guys now right? Or maybe you actually are just having a psychosomatic shock reaction to the news about Laura. I think you should talk to Deaton," I advise. I really don't understand what Derek's deal is with blaming me for what's going on in his shot life.

"I did. He told me to talk to you. Now fix it," Derek commands.

"What am I supposed to do Derek? Talk you into being angry? Is that really a constructive plan?" He raises an eyebrow at me in response. "Fine," I sigh. "But it's your own god damned fault that your a sourwolf. Alright," I psych myself up to give Derek the verbal smack down to get angry. "Well, we can be pretty sure your sister, and your Alpha, is dead. You don't know who did it and you can't do anything about it, which is pretty agitating. You're probably pretty pissed that this is happening. You should also be pissed that you're girlfriend is more concerned about her makeup and gossip than your relatively world-shattering current problems," I point at Paige, who's fixing her face in her compact and giggling with her friends at a table across the room. The entire school's heard about Laura by now (having psychics around really kicks the gossip train into overdrive). "Plus you have to deal with me, and that's certainly not high on your li-"

"Enough," Derek cuts me off, the usual amount of aggressive irritation in his voice. "I feel better," he says as his eyes go blue and his claws extend.

"Fucked up definition of 'better'," I say quietly as I walk away.

\-----

"Did you hear?" Danny asks as I sit down in Adv. Tech. class. I don't have to be a psychic to know what he's talking about.

"I think the whole school heard," I smirk, though I feel a little bad. It must be at least partially my fault that it happened. I didn't even mean it. It was just a good opportunity to do what I was asked to.

"Yeah," Danny agrees. "She sure can scream. I heard he just walked up to her in the hallway and said they were done, didn't give a reason or anything, just said it and walked away. What a prick."

"He had a reason, a really good one, actually," I defend, even though it's not necessarily my place.

"How would you know?" Danny asks, suspicious.

"Enough chatter, boys," Mrs. Graeme interrupts. "Today we're talking about biocomputers and the future of organic tech." Danny sighs audibly. He's not great with the o-tech.

\-----

"Hey, Stiles," Allison waves with a smile as I'm stretching before parkour.

"Hey," I smile in return. "What's up? I heard you're on Delta Squad with me and Isaac and Paige now."

"Yeah," she grins weakly, and I can feel her disappointment vividly.

"Don't worry, I'm sure if there's an opening on a higher team they'll let you transfer," I console honestly.

"Really?" she hopes. But then she realizes her rudeness. "Oh, sorry. I don't mean that Delta's not a good team. It's just, I really wanted to..."

"It's fine. I get it. You wanted to be on Alpha." She's still a bit shifty. "Because you're friends with Lydia now?" She bites her lip. "Because you like Scott," I realize.

"You're good," she grins.

"Eh," I shrug mockingly. "You're easy. Try getting info out of my dad. That shit's nigh impossible." She laughs a cute little breathy laugh, but I feel a little angry all of a sudden. "Balls," I sigh, turning around.

"What's up with him?" Allison asks.

"He broke up with his girlfriend, his sister is missing, and he has a pretty all around terrible life. Also he hates me," I state. A snarl comes from behind me.

"We need to talk," he commands.

"You already used that line. What are you a one trick puppy?" He tilts his head and his eyes flash to telegraph his attack. I run into the course before the signal sounds and he gives chase. Fast.

Luckily, I've gotten were-speed since the last time I was on this course so I actually can stay a little ahead of him. But, I'm also not great at controlling it, so I don't correct enough around a corner and slam into a wall. Derek's coming down on me, claws and fangs bared and, suddenly, it's dark and I feel weightless. I come out of a wall in another part of the course and I realize Allison phased us through the structures. "Holy shit," I whisper. "Thank you so much."

"Yeah," she says. "I'm just glad you didn't lose any limbs. I can't usually phase anything heavier than like 15 pounds with me."

My eyes go wide a bit at the horror of the possibility of pieces of me being lost in the wall, but I can hear Derek coming so we take off again.

Eventually, Derek gets caught by the drones and gets taken off the field to the practice zone. Allison and I team up and end up not getting caught for the rest of the period.

\-----

"I love Allison," I smile as I throw my backpack onto the bottom bunk and plop down in my desk chair.

"Dude," Scott pouts with sad puppy face.

"No," I sigh. "Not like that. We set a new course record for parkour by teaming up. It's brilliant. I don't know no one thought of it before. Anyway, she also saved me from Derek's wrath, so I gave her my blessing to date you."

"What?!" Scott half yells, bolting upright out of the video game chair.

"Yeah, she likes you. Duh. Get on it, brutha," I wink and he high tails it out of the room.

I lean back in the chair and relish the feel of the sunlight through the window. It's strange that I feel okay, seeing as today I got mauled by a wolf creature, aggressively attacked by two different peers, and somehow dragged into Derek Hale's crosshairs. Oh, and apparently I'm a lycanthromorph now. Just as I'm about to open my eyes and start playing a video game, I hear someone breathing in the doorway behind me.

"I said we need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's another chapter. There's a few things developing but I'm not sure how obvious they'll be until a few chapters on from now. Anywho, hope you like it! Let me know :D


	4. Chapter 4

"Dude!" I shout as I spin around in my chair to face my confronter. "You're going to give someone a heart attack. Namely: me."

"Sorry," he deadpans. "but we need to talk. Were you not paying attention in philosophy?"

"What?" He just lifts an eyebrow. "No. I never pay attention in philosophy. It's an easy pass class so I just read other, more interesting stuff. Deaton doesn't care."

"Well, he put us together on the group project," Derek slowly and deliberately points out. "So, we need to talk. About what we're going to write and whatever."

"Oh..." I have got to start paying more attention. "Wait, what group project?"

Derek sighs in annoyed frustration like he's explaining something to a kindergartener. "God, do you ever listen? He assigned it today. We have discuss the similarities and differences between our powers. I think he only put us together so you could actually learn to control your new lycanthropomorphism."

"Woah, big word," I muse. He tightens his jaw and I can sense his agitation. "Anyway, how do you want to do this? Should we split up the work evenly? Or I can do the whole project if you want. It'll probably only take me an hour and then you can look at it and add a few things."

"Whatever," Derek shrugs as he invites himself into my room and plops down on my bed.

"Uh..." I start, confused. "No offense or anything, but why are you still here?"

He looks over at me like I'm being the weird one, "You said it would only take an hour."

"Well, I didn't mean right-" I stop because he's got one eyebrow raised and somehow I get the sense that he doesn't want to leave, because, even though he doesn't want to be alone, he doesn't want to be around anyone else. "Nevermind. I'll get started." I roll up to my desk and turn on my laptop.

\-----

About twenty minutes later, Scott returns with a shit-eating grin on his face. Though, that expression quickly fades to one of terror and confusion when he sees Derek Hale lying on my bed. "Uh... Stiles?" he asks.

"Huh?" I follow his line of sight to the bed. "Oh, we got put together on the philosophy project." Scott's expression doesn't really drop, clearly tense and thinking I've gone insane for letting Derek Hale into our room when he obviously wants to kill me. "He's just hanging around while I write about the chemical, physiological, and psychological similarities and differences between our mutations. It's pretty easy, actually."

"Uh, alright," Scott breaths, relaxing a little.

\-----

Derek hangs around until dinner and sits at our table, much to the entire school's surprise. "Um..." Allison breaths, looking to Scott for instruction on how to act. He shrugs and she sits down, smiling politely. "Hi, Derek. How are you?"

He raises an eyebrow at her, clearly asking if she actually expects an answer. "He's fine," I respond for him. He gives a snarl, but I shrug it off. Hanging out in a room with him for an hour in my room has given me a sufficient sense of safety.

"Alright," Allison accepts. She not so slyly slides her and Scott's hands together under the table. "Have you thought of code names yet?" she asks Scott and I. But mostly Scott.

"No," he smiles at her. "What do you think it should be?"

"Hmm..." she hums in thought. "I like... Apollo." She smiles brightly at him. And he nods.

"Apollo it is, then."

"That's pretty good," I chime in. "I mean, Asclepius may be a more apt choice of mythical nomenclature, but Apollo is also the prime example of kouros, much like our Scotty boy."

"You haven't picked a code name yet?" Derek asks me, standard eyebrow arch in place.

"No," I sigh. "Everyone else picks such good names that fit their powers and their personalities. I don't have much to work with on that front seeing as I don't wanna be called Brainiac or something lame like that." Derek nods, clearly thinking.

\-----

"Stiles," a voice calls from behind me. I turn to find a beautiful redhead in her sparkling green dress.

"Lydia. Uh... Hey, what's up?" I ask, not really sure why she's actively pursuing a conversation with me outside of asking for my thoughts on particularly hard psych stuff.

"We need to talk," she says seriously.

"Why do people keep saying that?" I wonder aloud. She pulls me into my room through the open door.

Since this may be relatively sensitive information, to you and others, we're going to talk like this, I hear her voice in my head.

Alright, I think back.

Weird, she thinks. It usually hurts people's heads to do this for the first little while. But that's not the point. Something's wrong with you.

What do you mean? I think, alarmed. And how do you know?

Well, she starts, I can't actually be sure. But, usually when I read your mind, or anyone else's for that matter, I get their surface thoughts and emotions. People can have one or two emotions at a time. All day, whenever I read you, you have almost every emotion in the spectrum.

I give her a serious but not totally comprehending look. I mean, I've felt a little off today in that category. But, it could just be the Hale bite thing, right?

Her face tightens a bit and she bites her lip. I talked to my mom. I didn't mention your name or anything. But, she said the only other time she'd felt something like that, she was reading someone with DID. You know, multiple personality disorder?

Yeah, I shake my head. But I haven't been losing chunks of time or anything. I don't have any of the other symptoms.

I know, she says, still solemn. But I can usually detect things like this before they get truly symptomatic.

"Enough," I say aloud. "It's been a long and weird enough day already and I don't have the capacity to deal with this right now."

"Stiles," she pleads. "I'm worried about you. You're one of the most normal and decent people at this school."

My heart skips a beat. I've been wanting Lydia to say something like this for years. Basically since the first time I saw her. And now she's letting down her front to say she cares about me, and I didn't even know she really knew I existed. "Uh..." I breath. "Alright. Um, can we talk about it tomorrow? We can see Deaton or your mom or something."

"Good," she says, regaining her composure. She kisses me on the cheek and walks away. I almost fall over from the shock.

\-----

After lights out, I just stare at the bottom of Scott's bunk above me. Today has been terrible great, and terrible again, and then really great with just a little bad news at the end.

"Stiles?" Scott asks from above me. "You still awake?"

"Yeah, buddy," I respond quietly. "What's up?"

"Well," he sighs contentedly, "I just can't stop thinking about how weird everything is but then how great it is too. You know? Like, it sucks that people hat us for the way we were born, but I like most of the people here. Plus, I really really like Allison and it turns out she likes me back."

"Yeah," I breath. "I know the feelings." I pause before spilling the beans. "Lydia kissed me."

Scott shoots up in his bunk and leans over the side to look at me with wide eyes. "What?!" he whispers loudly.

"On the cheek," I dismiss. "Apparently she noticed some irregularity in my brain activity. Specifically, the kind that indicates I may have multiple personality disorder. Which sucks. But, on the upside, she said she cares about me and kissed me in the cheek."

Scott looks happy, but then he looks a bit hurt. "Why didn't you tell me as soon as I got back?"

"Well," I reply, "you were going in about Allison and I was happy for you so I didn't want to interrupt."

"That's dumb," Scott deadpans. "I really like her, but you'll always be my best bro and you have to share that sort of stuff with me." He punches me softly in the arm and then climbs back into his bunk.

"Alright," I say. "Good night, buddy."

"Night, Stiles."

I drift off with that feeling you get when you like somebody and you think they might just like you back. Although, I'm not totally sure who it is I'm feeling it about.


End file.
